Two Spoons of Sugar for that Cup of Tea
by Camellia Depp
Summary: Diona's lovelife is taking a little and interesting twist: we all know that Oliver Wood is a hunk, but can he manage a good relationship? Diona wants to find out, and she has her wonderful sarcastic friends to help her along the way. Isn't life grand?
1. All Over Oliver

Disclaimer: (*sigh* I know you're sick of these, but I have to stick it in) I do not own any of the characters here except for Diona, Fiona .. . The rest of the characters are owned by J.K. Rowling, and whoever else may happen to own them.  
  
I looked down at my quill. Unfortunately for me, the monotonous lesson with Professor Trelawny was stuck right before lunch, so the quill actually looked quite delicious. I started to have a daydream about devouring that quill, which may have become reality if Fiona didn't tap me on the shoulder.  
  
"Diona, what are you doing?" she whispered to me hastily. I looked down at my hands, which were holding the quill a little to close to my mouth. I felt my face blush a bit as I set the quill down and looked up at Professor Trelawny. Luckily, she hadn't even noticed, and was blundering on with her lesson on reading tea leaves.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
  
"And that is all we can fit in for today, thank you, and see you again soon," finished Professor Trelawny a few minutes later. I got up slowly, and heard my back crack behind me.  
  
"Quidditch practice," I said to Fiona in reply to the disgusted face she made when she heard the noise.  
  
Fiona and I walked towards the Hufflepuff common room in silence, so I decided to daydream for a while. Once again, it was simply dreams of eating. I must have walked into a wall, for I snapped out of my dream and realized that I was on the floor. The 'wall' was none other than Oliver Wood, who, according to all the rules of romantic-ness, was my object of affection. I stood up and started to pick up the book that had tumbled out of my arm. I bent back up afterwards, unfortunately, at the same time that he was doing so. Our heads collided, and mine started to pound most furiously.  
  
"I'm sorry," I stammered quickly, as he squinted, holding his head.  
  
"That's alright, sorry about slamming into you, I was sort of daydreaming," he said in reply.  
  
I didn't bother in replying that I had been daydreaming too. I just smiled and looked up at him. After a few seconds had passed with me just staring at him, Fiona coughed behind me, an attempt to get me to finish talking to him.  
  
"So, uh, I guess I have to go to my common room and get ready for lunch," I said, coagulating the words together beyond recognition.  
  
He paused a second with a confused look on his face (no doubt trying to figure out what I had just said), but then smiled. "Yeah, me too, see you later," he said and waved goodbye.  
  
When he had turned the corner, Fiona groaned and said, "If I hear one more guy say 'see you later', I swear, my head will explode!"  
  
"Why, it's not like he said, 'see you never'," I replied, trying to redeem what Oliver had said.  
  
"I'd rather that he said 'see you never'!" she said, and after seeing my aghast expression, quickly added, "I meant, I'd wish he had said that because then we'd know when he'd see you. 'Never' is such a clear word, while 'later' is just, well, wishy-washy!"  
  
"Wishy-washy? Really Fiona, I do have to stop letting you buy those fizzing whizbees during Hogsmeade," I said, stifling a laugh at her odd choice of words.  
  
Fiona turned to the entrance of the common room and said, "Ferocious Knarl," and, as the password was correct, we walked in.  
  
We entered the girl's dormitories and set our books down. I sat on the bed, and looked up at Fiona. She grinned and sat down next to me.  
  
"You are so lucky, you know that?" She said.  
  
I got up and started walking down the stairs, Fiona following me. Once we got to the bottom of the stairs I looked up at her and said, "Yeah, I know." 


	2. Glancy Looks

By the time we got to the Great Hall for lunch, there was almost nowhere to sit at the Hufflepuff table. We had to run around a few times looking for some empty seats. The only one we could find was next to Nona Rotnoil, and both Fiona and I cringed at the idea. We looked up at the professors, hoping that they would free up some other space, but alas, they were too incarcerated with their meal.  
  
Fiona hastily grabbed the seat next to Thomas Girelubber, leaving me with the task of sitting next to Nona.  
  
I felt something at the nape of my neck when I sat down, and at first I thought it was Fiona reaching over and trying to tickle me. Woe is me, 'stead of being Fiona's hand, it was Nona breathing down my spine. I screamed a little too loudly and fell backwards over the bench. I looked up, and, incidentally, everyone was staring back at me. Okay, I wasn't really that surprised, but I was in a panic of what to say as the reason of my 'incident'.  
  
I got up, brushed myself off in the most relaxed manner I could manage, and said, "I thought I saw a mouse scurry by on the table. It must have been my imagination, I apologize for causing a racket." Upon sitting back down, everyone had resumed his or her conversations and the noise in the hall was back at the 'high' level.  
  
It had been quiet between Fiona and I for a few seconds too long, so I looked over to see what she was doing. She was just sitting there, staring at something out of the corner of her eye. "Fiona, what are you doing?" I whispered, as not to disturb her concentration too much.  
  
"Look at all of those girls next to Oliver, he has about ten girls crowded around him!" She exclaimed softly.  
  
"That's a nice way to burn my hopes about Oliver," I grumbled back at her, turning my gaze once again at my food.  
  
"No, that wasn't the thing I wanted to bring attention to. If you look out of the corner of your eye, so that he doesn't notice you, you'll see what I'm talking about. Even though he has all of those girls around him, I haven't seen him take his gaze off of you for more than ten seconds!" Fiona said.  
  
"See, that's a nice way to reinstate my hopes about Oliver!" I grinned and stuffed a piece of baked potato into my mouth, chewing on it happily. I finished chewing and looked up, only to see Oliver still looking at me from his seat at the Gryffindor table. He waved at me and grinned, confirming Fiona's theory. I waved back, already beaming.  
  
I hadn't even relaxed by the time that lunch was done and tea was on the table. Fiona was holding the sugar container, ready to add some to our tea.  
  
"How many spoons do you want, and which cup is yours?" She asked, as she did everyday, even though she knew quite well what my reply was going to be.  
  
"Two spoons of sugar for that cup of tea," I said, pointing to a cup just on the right side of my plate. She added the sugar and I began to stir it, making sure it didn't just fall to the bottom of the cup.  
  
I drank my tea slowly today, avoiding all eye contact with anyone but my tea. I had half expected to start talking to the tea, I had become so acquainted with looking at it.  
  
"Fiona, what would a good name for a cup of tea be?" I asked.  
  
"Robert. Robert the cup of tea. That sounds nice," she replied.  
  
"Robert is a tad too formal, let's name him Bob."  
  
"Bob?" asked Fiona with a disgusted look on her face, "Bob is such a, such a muggle-like name!"  
  
"Yes, but muggle names are interesting, aren't they?" I said, half laughing as I said it, "Such as Dick. Dick is short for Richard in their world. All I want to know is, why would someone have a nickname after a 'how's your father'*!"  
  
"Well, they have to walk all day instead of fly, what do you expect? I'm surprised their feet stay attached to their bodies!"  
  
When we all finished our tea (or our Bobs, if you prefer) Fiona and I headed back to the common room for a free period. On the way out of the Great Hall, I looked over at Oliver again, and he was still looking at me, even when I had changed positions. We exchanged smiles and went our separate ways.  
  
Fiona was still looking at me when we sat down on the chairs in the common room. "I cannot believe you Diona!" She squealed.  
  
"Why? What did I do now that was so horrible?"  
  
"You didn't talk to him! There was your perfect chance, and you didn't talk to him!"  
  
"I can always talk to him tomorrow," I said, stating the obvious.  
  
"Fine, but I'm not going to tell you when you should talk to him next time," she said.  
  
"I'm quite sure I can figure it out for myself."  
  
I lied back in my chair and resumed daydreaming, waiting until our free period was over.  
  
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* how's your father: Let me put this simply, it is what they call a man's penis in British Lingo. 


	3. Noses, Rings, and Anticipation

"Diona!" Fiona was yelling my name into my ear. I was stuck in my daydream, so by the time that I snapped out enough to hear her, she was so mad that she was saying it more like 'DEEEE-YOOOO-NAAAAAAAA!'  
  
I opened an eye and looked at her, "What?"  
  
"Oh, nothing, did I wake you? I just wanted to tell you that class starts in about five minutes. Nothing major," she looked at me with a look of deep, sarcastic calmness.  
  
"ACK!" I yelled and ran to grab my books. Upon running back down, I tripped and fell over something, falling chest down onto the floor.  
  
Fiona sighed and walked over, calm because of my prone-ness to accidents, yet not getting hurt. "You okay?"  
  
"Mmm ohze eelzz oden*!" I said, the words muffled because my face still happened to be on the ground.  
  
"If you're going to talk, your best bet would be to pick up your head," Fiona replied, obviously annoyed.  
  
"inne, utt yer ong oo se alottt lod!" I cried.  
  
She sighed, "pick up your head, I can't tell what you said!"  
  
"I said, fine, but you're going to see a lot of blood," I said, picking up my head and feeling blood trickle down my chin onto my neck.  
  
"Ugh, We better get you to the hospital wing," she said and went to go get some tissues to keep the blood from over spilling.  
  
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I spent the next two days in the hospital wing with a broken nose. I did receive three baskets of flowers, a letter from my mother, few boxes of chocolate frogs, fizzing whizbees, pepper imps (which were taken away), and of course, a sugar quill, so I won't have to daydream about eating real quills anymore.  
  
Although I had quite a few presents, perhaps the best surprise was a visit from none other than Oliver, who presented me with a nice little red ever-blooming rose that 'Hagrid let him pick from a bush behind his hut'. It was quite sad when he had to go, but he promised to see me again soon.  
  
The rose was wrapped in a bit of pink paper, which I unwrapped before sticking it in a vase. Once I unwrapped the wrapping, a small piece of folded up paper fell into my lap, and I stuck it into my pocket for reading once Madame Pomfrey had left.  
  
I had completely forgotten about it until two days later, when I was rummaging about in my robe for a hair elastic. It fell out of my pocket onto the floor, and I snatched it up quickly before anyone could notice. I sat on my bed and carefully unfolded it. Enclosed in the little packet of paper was a small silver ring with an inscription on it, which I couldn't make out the letters of. When the wrapping was folded out all the way, Oliver's voice whispered this message:  
  
'I do feel quite silly saying this, but I must make it brief. I would  
really enjoy getting to know you better Diona, and if you are free on  
Tuesday, It would be nice for us to meet and talk. Please meet me in  
the rear garden at 2:15 PM, during Hufflepuff and Gryffindor's free  
period. I hope you like the ring that I enclosed, I will tell you more  
about it when we meet, just wear it then. See you on Tuesday!'  
  
"Aww, that was so sweet!" Fiona exclaimed when I read her the message. "And look!" She said pointing to a spot on the page, "He even wrote 'See you Tuesday' instead of 'see you later'! Isn't this wonderful!" She was practically bouncing with excitement, "Just imagine, my best friend meeting up with Oliver Wood tomorrow!" I smiled and fixed the ring that Oliver had given me, which now sat on my ring finger.  
  
I giggled and exclaimed, "It seems that I'm married when the ring is on this finger!"  
  
"So switch it to your middle finger or something," Fiona said.  
  
"I tried it on my middle finger first, but the weird thing was, it was too large for my middle finger, but absolutely perfect on my ring finger. Isn't that ridiculous?"  
  
Fiona nodded, "Can you read what it says yet?"  
  
"No, I really can't make out the letters, it just looks like a bunch of markings. I'll try it again tomorrow."  
  
'Mmm, tomorrow,' I thought, 'I can't wait until tomorrow'  
  
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*Translation: My nose is broken 


	4. Things get a little too serious

I left the hospital wing that night, tired, but healed. The day after crawled by, my anticipation of meeting up with Oliver was growing. I got about 15 points taken away from Hufflepuff that morning because I wouldn't pay attention. I couldn't pay attention is more fitting, actually. Oliver's voice played over in my head:  
  
'... I would really enjoy getting to know you better Diona...'  
  
Thank goodness 2:15 finally came, by then I had dreamed up almost all of the possibilities of me running into Oliver's arms and having him whisk me off.  
  
After quickly running to the common room and throwing my books under my bed, I brushed my hair, applied lippy*, and practiced my 'Hello Oliver's in front of the mirror.  
  
I stopped primping for a second to look at my ring, which was hastily rearranging the letters on the inscription. I ran my finger over it, but quickly with drawled, for the silver of the ring was red hot. The odd thing was the ring didn't burn the finger that it was on; it didn't feel a bit abnormal there.  
  
I placed thoughts of the ring in the back of my head and continued on to the rear garden.  
  
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My stomach did back flips when I saw Oliver standing there. He saw me and waved, adding on one of his amazing smiles. I walked over and smiled, returning his wave.  
  
"Hi Oliver," I said softly, and thankfully, in a completely squeak-free voice.  
  
"Hey," He said and looked at me, penetrating me with his deep green eyes. He took my hand and looked at my finger, "You wore the ring," he said, smiling.  
  
"I've been wearing it since I got it," I said and looked back at him, "I couldn't read the inscription, and today it started rearranging itself. I was wond'ring if you could tell me about it, it really is an interesting ring."  
  
"It started rearranging already? That was quite fast. Must like you," he said, half to himself and half to no one else in particular. "May I see your hand?" He asked.  
  
It was quite a job to contain the excitement that was stirring up in my body. "Yeah, sure," was all I mustered, and he held my hand and looked at my palm. I looked down and noticed that something was being etched into my skin. The feeling wasn't painful; it was a pleasant, like a feather being softly tickled across my palm. The message read only the word 'yes'. He brought my hand up to his lips and kissed it, making the message disappear. I almost swooned from the kiss, but managed to stay upright.  
  
"You kiss very softly," I said, for I couldn't quite take in what the ring and writing on my palm were about.  
  
He laughed, but not in a taunting way, "Thank you, I think."  
  
"What was the ring all about?" I asked him.  
  
"It was my mother's old ring, she enchanted it so that if I found a girl I fancied, I could stick it on her finger, and it would tell me if it was really worth it to go for her," he said, "quite silly actually."  
  
I was a bit disappointed; I expected it to be a little more exciting than that. I looked back down at the ring and noticed that the letters had stopped rearranging, and were back to their usual undecipherable phrase.  
  
"Well, I seem that was a quite long and useless run up to what I really wanted to say," he said, and looked me in the eyes, "Will you go out with me?"  
  
I could have sworn my heart skipped a beat, even though it was quite silly in the end, "Yes, I'm glad you asked," I said, beaming brighter than the sun over a desert.  
  
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Thank goodness I only had two more periods of class after that, I couldn't wait to tell Fiona what had happened.  
  
Her Reaction:  
  
"HE WHAT?" Fiona screamed at me, jumping up and down.  
  
"He kissed my hand," I repeated, grinning.  
  
"Ooh! I knew it! I knew you two were destined to be together!" She squealed.  
  
"It is quite odd about the ring though, you really would think there was more to it than just a way to find if a girl he fancies is good or not."  
  
"Mmm," she said and stopped jumping, "really, I do think he's holding something back from you."  
  
"I don't know, why would he hold it back?"  
  
She shrugged and replied, "He always seemed quite, well, iffy."  
  
"Iffy? He can't be iffy, he's the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team! That would be awful if he was an iffy captain, 'Hmm, shall I score a point, crash into that bludger, go for the snitch, grab Merriam's club, or go get myself a nice cup of tea?'"  
  
I fixed the position of the ring on my finger and realized that the message had changed once again. Except now, I could read it clearly, 'See you soon Diona!' I didn't show Fiona the message on the ring out of fear that she would do her 'That-is-such-an-unclear-adverb' monologue.  
  
I went off to do homework, and didn't think too much about anything for the rest of the night.  
  
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*Lippy: Okay, this is a bit obvious, but just in case you don't know (don't be embarrassed about it () Lippy is lipgloss or lipstick. 


	5. Red hair is trouble as long as it's not ...

When I woke up in the morning, I was a mess. My hair was frizzy, my eyes had bags under them, and I was limping from exhaustion. I looked down at my ring and it read, 'good morning, you look beautiful'. I smiled, knowing that Oliver wasn't being sarcastic. Or at least I hoped he wasn't.  
  
I hobbled into the bathroom to brush my hair, clean my teeth, and all of the other usual morning practices.  
  
Fiona stomped in, looking like a hag, and quite easily, just as mad as one. She fiercely grabbed her comb and started 'brushing' her black hair. She was, in fact, attacking her hair more than combing it.  
  
I eventually gave in. "Why Fiona! You seem quite in a bunch today, what is the matter?" I said in my sweetest voice, just to annoy her.  
  
"I haven't been doing very well in Muggle Studies," she replied while still going at it with her hair.  
  
"Oh?" I said and twirled a piece of my dark red hair around my finger. I let go and began washing my face, awaiting the next piece of her story.  
  
"My Mum sent me a letter yesterday morning, I stuffed it into my pocket before anyone else could notice. The letter said that she was 'very upset' for not having me 'reach her expectations'. She said she's keeping me off of allowance until I get better grades!"  
  
"That's it?" I mumbled while drying my face.  
  
"What?" She said to me, puzzled, but knowing I had said something insulting.  
  
"I said, that sucks"  
  
"Yeah, it does," she reminisced in the thought for a moment, but then shook it off, "When's the next time you're going to see Oliver?"  
  
"I don't know, at breakfast I s'pose," I wasn't very hungry, but I did anticipate seeing Oliver again.  
  
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We entered the Great Hall for breakfast and sat down at the Hufflepuff table, this time, far away from Nona. I looked up at Oliver and waved, and he smiled back.  
  
I grabbed a croissant from a platter before they were all gone, and filled my glass with water. A small breakfast was just what I needed, nothing more, nothing less.  
  
I felt a hand on my shoulder and stiffened up. I looked behind me to see that it was Oliver's hand! I relaxed on the outside, stiffening more on the inside.  
  
"Hey," He said, and gave me a small kiss on the cheek. Inside, I was screaming 'Huzzah!' but on the outside, I just smiled and gave him a 'cheek kiss' back. He sat down next to me on the bench.  
  
I smiled and said jokingly, "You might get in trouble for coming over here."  
  
"It's worth the risk of losing five points. Plus, the teachers can't tell anything over the noise and all of the moving, the prefects are just eating, and the head boy and head girl are making out in the bathroom," He replied.  
  
I laughed and looked at him, "Again? D'you think they'll get caught this time?"  
  
"Nah, I doubt it," he said, "Listen, Hogsmeade Weekend is in a few days, do you want to come with me?"  
  
"Sure, that would be great, I can't wait," I said, trying to contain some of my excitement.  
  
"Great," He said and started to get up, but before he left, he turned to me, put a hand on my face, and kissed my lips softly.  
  
I waved to him as he was leaving, and got up myself to leave the hall, as it was the end of breakfast.  
  
Fiona was quick to follow me in leaving, excited beyond belief, "What was it like? Were his lips soft? Were they dry, or moist?"  
  
"It was nice, soft and moist, but not too wet, I liked it," I said and smiled, going back to daydreaming once again.  
  
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The next three days flew by, and soon, Hogsmeade weekend came. Fiona and I had carefully chosen what to wear the day before, so the hardest part was basically over. I just put my hair up, dabbed on a little mascara, some silver eye shadow on the crease of my eyes, some clear lippy, just the necessities, as Fiona calls them.  
  
"You look drop dead gorgeous!" Fiona exclaimed when I came out, "That sweater and skirt pair really does it for you. Not to mention the boots. Very nice!"  
  
"You're just saying that because you picked it out!"  
  
"I know, but you look pretty all the same," She said and smiled. I grinned back.  
  
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I sat at a table in Madam Puddifoot's, the place where Oliver and I had agreed to meet at lunch two days ago. I scanned the room for him, but only found three tables full. One had a couple sitting at it, the girl (who I recognized as the fourth year Paddi Loutfroot) stirring her tea looking quite bored, while a blonde haired boy with glasses was loudly relaying to her that 'even though his owl lost it's legs, he still gets his mail delivered'. At next table was a girl with very long, gorgeous red hair flowing over her shoulder. She was reading the Daily Prophet, and seemed to be alone. Two sisters, Mariel and Rohna Douien, occupied the last table. Mariel was telling Rohna about some seventh year being expelled, most likely just useless gossip.  
  
My analyzation of the occupants was interrupted by Oliver's voice, and a kiss on the cheek. "Hi," he said as he sat down, grinning.  
  
"Hey!" I smiled, "you surprised me!" His openness with public displays of affection didn't bother me at all. In fact, I kind of liked it. He must've read my mind, because he bent over the table and kissed me, his tongue approaching my lips, but we were disrupted by the sound of the red haired girl having a coughing fit. I could have sworn she was looking at us when we were kissing, but I just shook it off.  
  
"Are you okay?" Oliver said over to her, being the gentleman that he is.  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine," she said quietly, "my tea must've gone down the wrong way." She smiled at him and he nodded, turning back to me.  
  
"So, where were we?" He asked, and went back to kissing me. Unfortunately, we were once more interrupted, this time by a waitress, asking us what we would like to have.  
  
"We'll have a mocha latte to share," I said, after some deliberating with Oliver. The red haired girl was leaving, and it seemed like she had gone out of her way to get near Oliver and I, when she tripped and fell over what seemed to be an oddly well-placed spoon.  
  
Oliver and I got up to help her, me with a little more reluctance than he.  
  
"I seem to be a little clumsy today, I'm sorry about that," she said, "Excuse me for being rude, my name is Sarah Sorden."  
  
"I'm Diona Vaise, and this is my boyfriend Oliver Wood. I don't believe I've seen you around Hogwarts before."  
  
"Rightly so. I was studying in the Routien School in France before transferring to Hogwarts. My father's job got transferred, he's a famous journalist, Troy Sorden, you may have heard of him.  
  
"Oh! Troy Sorden! My mum reads his stuff all the time!" Oliver said, actually looking interested in the conversation.  
  
"Yes, well, Oliver, we mustn't keep Sarah here too long, I'm quite sure she has very important things to do," I replied stiffly.  
  
"Oh yes, and I really must be going," She said, "I have to go pick up a few things for school. Au revoir!" I cringed when she said it, her French accent so perfectly sculpted.  
  
"Do you want to get out of here?" Oliver asked, "I know a nice little quiet spot around here."  
  
"Sure," I said, and we walked out of Madam Puddifoot's hand in hand. 


	6. Trust is a true bond

"So? What happened? Tell me!" Fiona poked me for a description of what happened in the quiet spot.  
  
"Well, you know, stuff," I replied.  
  
"Oh, well that's specific," She said sarcastically, "come on, you can tell me, I'm your best friend."  
  
"You really want to know?" I asked.  
  
"Yes! Yes I do!"  
  
"Well fine, but it's not erotica or anything, so don't get too excited. Well, he brought me to this beautiful forest clearing, canopied by willows and all. We talked for a while; he was holding me in his arms. It was just so romantic! We got to our favorite books, and he said, 'anything that involves me holding you', and then he snogged* me. It lasted quite a while, if I can remember correctly. And then he slipped his hand under my bum (over my pants of course, he didn't go into my pants), which was quite odd, but nice in a way, er, sort of. That sort of went on for a while, but eventually, we had to stop and go back to the main town. Holding hands, of course," I smiled and reminisced in the memory, eagerly awaiting when I would see Oliver again.  
  
I glanced down at my ring, and noticed that the message had changed to 'You really are a wonderful snogger'. I showed this to Fiona, and we had a good laugh. Then, I remembered about that awful red haired girl, Sarah.  
  
"Fiona, do you know a girl with long red hair named Sarah Sorden?" I asked.  
  
"The new one?" She asked. I nodded in reply. "Oh yes, I know her. She's the Slytherin with the most gorgeous long red hair, she really is quite pretty. French, I've heard. Why has she popped into your head?"  
  
"Well, Oliver and I were at Madam Puddifoot's, and she was sitting a few tables away. She started coughing when Oliver and I kissed, and she tripped right in front of her on her way out. If I wasn't mistaken, Oliver might've taken a little fancy to her," I said.  
  
"That's ridiculous Diona, why would he fancy her if he fancies you? He knows you wouldn't fancy the idea of him fancying her when you fancy him and he supposedly fancies you! Because then, who would fancy me?!?" She said, confusing everyone, including herself.  
  
"Who do you fancy anyway?" I asked.  
  
"That's beside the point!" she squealed, "I don't think he fancies her, he obviously fancies you."  
  
"He could be a double-fancier!" I said.  
  
"I don't think there is such a thing."  
  
"Well there is now!"  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------- And so a week passed and before I knew it, it was Valentine's Day eve, a Friday. And of course, that was the day that they alerted us that there was to be a Valentine's Day ball tomorrow. Of course Oliver asked me to go. They just couldn't have given us any less time to get ready, could they? ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------  
  
It was Valentine's Day morning, and I had thankfully already gathered everything up for the evening. I walked to breakfast and was surprised (and pleased) to find out that the long tables and benches had been replaced with small coffeehouse tables for two and cute little chairs.  
  
"In the spirit of Valentine's Day, we have decided to make an arrangement for couples. There are two chairs to a table, and if you don't have a couple, don't fret, you can always sit with a friend," said Dumbledore and waved his wand, making a nice little set of food appear on each table. I quickly found Oliver, and we walked over to a table, hand in hand. I was quite happy with everything, until I heard familiar footsteps. They were the footsteps of Sarah's high heels. She sat down at a table next to us, making me furious inside. Thankfully, Oliver took no notice this time, and kept going at his cereal. I chewed on my toast happily, looking at Sarah from the corner of my eye. She had a little black book on her table, I couldn't decipher what it said on the cover, but whatever the inscription was, it was in gold thread, which was glowing softly.  
  
A boy was standing a little bit behind her. I studied him, blonde hair combed to the side a bit, icy gray eyes sharp on Sarah, a small hint of a smile on his pale pink lips. I recognized him as a second year, Draco Malfoy, I think. He approached Sarah, a bit shaky.  
  
"Is anyone sitting here?" He asked her.  
  
"Yes, actually, someone is," She said coldly and Malfoy walked away, a bit sad.  
  
'I didn't know that Sarah had a boyfriend!' I thought, 'I wonder who he is.'  
  
Sarah opened the little black book, and started writing in it at a vicious pace. I looked over and read what she was writing:  
  
'I can't believe it! It's Valentine's Day and I'm all alone. So  
alone, Diary, that a second year just asked to sit with me! Do you  
know how terribly embarrassing that is? I should have probably been  
grateful, at this rate, it seems that I'll always be alone. Always  
without a boy friend. The boys in France didn't like me, and the  
boys in America weren't impressed that I knew several languages.  
It's horribly upsetting! And, it seems that I'm back where I  
started. Back at a new school with some more boys who won't even  
look at me. Back where girls look over your shoulder while you write  
in your Diary. Where you get no privacy!  
  
I started to freak out that she knew I was watching her, and, sure enough, when I lifted my eyes from her diary to her face, she was glaring at me. Sarah quickly shut her diary and took a sip of her tea. She looked up and acted as though she had just noticed that Oliver was sitting there.  
  
"Oh Oliver! Hello!" She gave me a small nod and a sour look, "what a coincidence that you're sitting here!" His mouth tightened, forming a small line, an effort at a smile. I looked down at our plates and got an idea.  
  
"I'm very sorry to cut you off Sarah, but we were just about to go," I said, placing a hand on her table to balance on, and accidentally slipping onto her robe.  
  
"Sorry, my hand slipped," I remarked.  
  
"Yes, I had quite noticed that. It's fine, don't give yourself a headache over it," She said scornfully.  
  
We said our goodbyes and were off, but not before I flicked my wand behind my back at the chair she was sitting on, making it collapse beneath her.  
  
Oliver and I didn't say a word to each other as we were walking back to our common rooms. He most likely out of confusion over what had happened, and me because I was listening to what was going on around Sarah. You didn't think that I had really just slipped, did you? I had actually placed something on her robe, through which I was listening and seeing what was going on around her. The receivers were placed in the lobe of my ears, with the visual receivers in my sunglasses, which I had adorned on my eyes this morning.  
  
It had been pretty silent there, but I soon got a picture in my glasses of that second year, Draco Malfoy, going back towards Sarah.  
  
"I'm sorry about not introducing myself before, my name is Draco Malfoy," he said. Sarah stayed silent and turned down towards the orange that she was peeling.  
  
"Just go away," she said quietly, placing the orange skins on the plate next to her, "Please, I would really like to be alone. I don't want to be seen with a second year. I really would much rather be by myself. I am getting quite accustomed to it."  
  
Draco didn't respond, he didn't seem angry, or anything. He just quietly sighed and placed his head down, walking away. -----  
  
I took the sunglasses off quickly after seeing the scene. I stuffed them in my pocket, and took Oliver's hand, stopping him and turning him towards me.  
  
"Oliver, I really do hate doing this, but I fear I must. Do you fancy Sarah?" I asked him, looking into his green eyes.  
  
He looked at me. Ten seconds passed. Twenty. He looked in my eyes. Thirty. He seemed to be thinking something over. Thirty-five. He brought me towards him, holding me. It seemed like forever. He kissed me on the forehead** and we just stood there, holding each other. He finally loosened a bit and said softly, "Not anymore, I finally got my priorities straight."  
  
I looked up at him, "you weren't with us both at the same time, were you?"  
  
"Just for a day or two when we just started going out. I had so many girls crowded around me, it was maddening. All I could think about was you, my mind was slowing down. She just kind of came towards me, I couldn't stop myself," he said.  
  
I let go of his hands and distanced myself a bit, "Oliver, I can't trust you if you go off with another girl," I said, "even if it was five months ago. How would I know you wouldn't do that again?" I shook my head, "Maybe later, when I know I can trust you more." I walked away towards the common room.  
  
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*Snogged: kissed. I.e.: full frontal snogging is kissing with everything: lip to lip, open mouth, tongues, you get the picture.  
  
**I am shorter than him by a few inches. He is quite tall, borderline six feet, maybe an inch shorter. 


	7. The post double fancying episode

I sat on my bed, staring at the wall. I felt the warmth of a tear trickle down my cheek, soaking into my skin, unwanted and unneeded. 'Why am I crying?' I asked myself, 'I did not lose anything. He was 'double- fancying'.' I gave a slight chuckle at my use of Fiona's words. The chuckle did not, in fact, lighten my spirit. It just made shed more tears.  
  
I was ready to go to the ball, wearing my dress, mascara streaming down my cheeks. Fiona hadn't seen my crying about this yet, I hadn't told her about it at all. She was in the bathroom doing her make-up. I walked in anyway, hoping for some sympathy.  
  
"ACK! YOU MADE THE MASCARA RUN!!!!!!" She shrieked. That wasn't really what I was looking for. I looked up at her and sniffled overdramatically to get her to notice.  
  
She studied me for a second, put her face very close up to mine, and said 'Aha' quite loudly. I was just relieved that she didn't kiss me. Fiona backed away slowly, cocked an eyebrow at me, sneezed, and grumbled a bit.  
  
"What was all that for?" I asked.  
  
"The sneeze?"  
  
I sighed but continued, "no, the big 'eyebrow, eyebrow, grumble, aha, eyebrow, grumble' bit."  
  
"Oh, that. I was studying you."  
  
I had completely forgotten about Oliver by then, and was just taking my time in being perplexed with Fiona. "So, what did you find?" I asked.  
  
"I found that you broke up with Oliver because of that wench," She said, looking more like a psychiatrist than a teenage girl.  
  
I started sobbing again, and attempted to speak, "B-b-b-but I-eeee didnae wa-a-wa-wanna berake urpppppppp!"  
  
Fiona stared at me for a second, trying to comprehend my sentence. After about thirty seconds her face expression changed from befuddle-ment to slight annoyance, once again, not the sympathy I was looking for. "If you didn't want to break up," she said, "then why did you?"  
  
That stopped my crying. I looked up at her and grinned. "You know what, you're right. I shouldn't be crying about him, I should be recovering! I am strong! I am invincible! I am teenager, hear me complain!" And I stormed off into the bathroom to fix my make-up.  
  
Whilst I was making my big triumphant speech, Fiona lightly uttered, "but that's not what I was talking about."  
  
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A/N: Now, as I have been perusing other fan fictions I have noticed that all of them contain Yule Balls. This is quite an annoyance, and therefore we will just make the bit about the ball short. It just has to be there. I'm sorry for any hatred, dislike, or annoyances that I may gather from this, but at least it well develop the story!  
  
~Camellia  
  
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Fiona and I arrived at the Yule Ball soon after, heading straight for some chairs in the corner. I sat next to her, hoping no one would think we were dating each other.  
  
I accidentally pushed my hand into the chair and felt my nail chip. I looked down at my hand to inspect the damage and noticed I still had Oliver's ring on. Instead of the silver it had been before, it had a tint of blue, and a shiny coating on the top. "So he's sad," I wondered to myself. I looked over at him, and he was once again crowded by girls. In fact, he didn't look one bit sad. He didn't even look at me! It was depressing.  
  
The night basically went like that. Just slow song, fast song, slow song, slow song, fast song, fast song, fast song, etc, etc. Not one glance from Oliver. He danced with Nina Beurl, Tori Darle, Meg Rein, Andrea Parki, and, just as I had expected, Sarah. I had danced only with Robert Mairon, which isn't too bad, but he's no Oliver. Fiona, on the other hand, had at least four dancing partners. Once she sat down, I gestured to Oliver and Sarah.  
  
"How could he do that?" She hissed.  
  
I shrugged and looked back at them, "I suppose he just went up and asked her."  
  
Fiona glared at me, "I meant, how could he be dancing with so many girls already, you guys just broke up a few hours ago!"  
  
Sarah was still hanging on Oliver, but was soon disrupted by Draco's voice. He took her to a spot near us, right out of earshot. We watched from the corner of our eyes and listened intently.  
  
"Sarah, even though you have a date and everything, I was wondering if you'd like to dance," Draco said. He seemed to be a little softer than we thought he would be. Sarah rolled her eyes and waved him off, not even giving him a reply. She gave us a glance of disgust, as she realized that we were listening and watching. We quickly returned the look.  
  
"Why was she so mean to him?" I asked.  
  
"Please, you're talking about Sarah here."  
  
"Yeah, but she didn't have to be that mean!"  
  
"That's not what matters here," Fiona said.  
  
"There's something that does matter?"  
  
"Yes. Didn't you hear? Sarah has a date! We have to figure out who it is!"  
  
"Thank you, Nancy Drew," I said, rolling my eyes.  
  
"Nancy Drew?"  
  
"Muggle Literature."  
  
"Oh," Fiona said, "but what if it's Oliver?"  
  
"He's not that dim*," I said, "I'm pretty sure he has at least a little compassion in him. He wouldn't just bash me like that."  
  
"I don't know, he did it while you were dating, so what's stopping him if you're not?"  
  
"Well, he seemed upset when we broke up, so I suppose he's not going to just bounce back!" I cried. I covered my face with my hands, and felt the wet covering of the ring. "Erlack**!" I said, and quickly brought my hands away from my face. I wiped the spot where the ring touched my forehead, and looked down at my hands. The ring had something etched into it again, it said: 'I didn't'. I looked up at Oliver, hoping he was looking back at me, but he was too busy dancing with Sarah to notice me.  
  
I sighed and stood up, walking out of the Great Hall.  
  
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*Dim= stupid **Erlack= gross, disgusting. I.E.: Erlack a pongoes, which means very disgusting.  
  
A/N: I promise to try and make longer chapters! I really, really do! But it is quality, not quantity, eh? ^^ 


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